Oliver Twist-Sikes' Second Chance
by PhantomAbernathy
Summary: In his escape from the angry mob, Bill Sikes is rescued by a cloaked woman. How is she living in Pentonville and what is her connection with Mr Brownlow?
1. Chapter 1

_[The first sentence or so that is in italics is from the book Oliver Twist so it's carrying on the story]_

_"The eyes again!" he cried in an unearthly screech. Staggering as if struck by lightning, he lost his balance and _nearly_ tumbled over the parapet._ A cloaked figure came behind him and swiftly yanked him to a sturdier part of the roof. There she took the rope from around him and tossed it into the crowd. The gloomy clothes she wore fortuitously resembled a ghost, startling the murderer. He waved his filthy hands in the air, preparing for his death by the phantom. "Nance- Nance I'm sorry. Have mercy on me, it was an accident, I didn't mean to go that far ."

The figure shook her head. "Pull yourself together, sir, at least till we're away from 'ere."

"Don't you know who I am?" Sikes asked, his voice trembling.

"Oh, I know who you are, sir. Follow me; I've got somewhere you can stay if you want." Sikes followed, for he had no better offer. The woman hid behind the tallest chimney of the roof, Sikes followed. Bull's-eye followed. After thinking of the best distraction to give them more time to escape, she grabbed Bull's-eye, the dog struggled but the woman had already thrown him into the mob below. "Bull's-eye!" Sikes yelled and tried scrambling to the edge to see his dog. "Sir, he'd have got you killed and you know it. He'll be alright down there anyway, people will know he's yours and think he'll help to find you, I promise you, he'll be fine." The murderer considered his options and decided pushing the woman off after his dog was not going to get him anywhere. He gestured for her to continue and with the crowd in panic at the dog which seemingly flew towards them. The woman shuffled along the roof leaning on Sikes until they got to a trapdoor which she must have come up to get there in the first place. Opening the door, she helped the murderer down; his sweaty hands were shaking and his eyes, bloodshot. After staring at each other for a few seconds they carried on through London, changing route every time Sikes was recognised. "So, you say you know who I am, but who are you?" He asked.

"Later, sir, you never know who might be listening in these streets." She replied, however Sikes couldn't think of anyone worse than himself who might be in the streets. Soon after this they reached Pentonville at which point, Sikes turned around to leave. The woman touched his shoulder, "Sir, where else can you go now? Without being caught I mean. Half of the city's looking for you."

"This is Pentonville, how's this going to be better than anywhere else?" He scoffed nervously.

"'Cos it's where I live. Only others in my house are a couple of servants, sir."

"Stop with the "Sir" would you. Reminds me of wot a beak would say. 'Come along with me, sir, if you please.'" Sikes imitated a policeman. The woman giggled. They stood in silence for a minute or so, as if they were waiting for something. "Wot do you want me to call you then?" She asked mockingly. Sikes hesitated, "Bill," the woman nodded and they began walking towards one of the smaller houses in Pentonville, "Wot do you want me to call you?" She seemed to ignore him but after unlocking the door and going inside, she took down her hood and whispered to him "Clara." She had golden blonde hair and large blue eyes. He repeated her name, as if to find how the name tasted in his mouth. He smiled in approval. Clara took him around the house, noticing a glint in his eye whenever they walked past an object of value. "I hope you remember that no one would buy any of this off _you_." She sighed. After a tour of downstairs, she offered him a drink. "I'll have the strongest you've got." Clara pulled out a bottle of liquor and another of gin from a cupboard. "Now I still don't really know who you are... Your name is Clara, but why do you speak like me but live in Pentonville and why would you help me after wot- wot I did?" Sikes inquired. Snatching the liquor from his hand to have a drink herself, she began.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, when I was, wot fourteen? I was a pickpocket myself. This one time I got nicked, not by the beak but the bloke I stole from. He took me to an alley and beat me up, threatened to hand me in. Thought he was going to, so I got my pocket watch I took a few months before, and I- I strangled him with the chain. Bill, I know wot it's like to be a murderer. I know how it feels you're worse off than the one you killed." Clara sighed. The murderer downed the gin, he sat still pondering over the story he had just heard.

"Still don't know how you're living in Pentonville..."

"A few days after that, I was crying, I was lying in the gutter. I couldn't pick pockets after that, my hands wouldn't stop shaking and I felt dizzy whenever I tried. So I had no money, no food, no shelter and I had killed someone. This nice woman, Mrs Bedwin, she was shopping and came and asked me wot was the matter. I told her what I had, or didn't have and she left. A few hours later she came back with a man called Mr Brownlow." At the point, Sikes knocked over his bottle and a startled young maid appeared. She nervously cleared up the mess while they sat awkwardly in silence until she left. "Brownlow, eh?" Sikes started rubbing his eyes.

"You know him?" She asked. He tilted his head and scratched his head in reply. "They took me home with them, Mrs Bedwin gave me a bath, some soup, and they looked after me. I stayed with them for a few years and it was nice but..."

"Hold on, you stayed there for a few years. You didn't once think about nicking some of the treasures in their house?" Sikes asked in pure disbelief.

"At first I thought about it. I thought a lot, but after so much thinking I knew I had no one or nowhere else to go so why would I throw away a chance to live in Pentonville? Pentonville, Bill." Clara paused, blinked a few times and got back to her story. "It was nice but I didn't feel like I fitted in. Not because there was anything wrong with them, they were just so good. And I wasn't. Brownlow bought this place for me and he pays for everything."

"If this is Brownlow's house I can't stay. He knew Nance- Her, and he knows wot I did."

"He doesn't visit often, you'll be fine. I'll make sure the servants don't say anything to anyone either." Just as she said this, two maids appeared the younger one who appeared earlier and an older looking rather concerned. "May I speak to you about supper, Miss?" The older one asked with a frown. Clara followed not expecting to hear a word about supper. "Miss, there is word on the street that a dangerous criminal who just murdered his, girlfriend, is on the run. The description is an uncanny similar to your friend, and Kate overheard some unpleasant discussion between you, please tell me this is some kind of mistake."

"I'm afraid it's no mistake, Mrs Finch, but don't worry, he's not like people say. He lost control and quite frankly I think he needs help." Clara explained. Mrs Finch buried her head in her hands and took a deep breath. "You think he needs help Miss? What about the poor girl who's dead now? What will Mr Brownlow say?"

"Nothing, because you're going to tell him nothing of this. At least until the mob's died down. As far as I am aware it is the Lord's job to judge and condemn him not yours, Mrs Finch. Please go and make the bed in the green room. " Such a bold statement silenced the old woman. She nodded and left, taking Kate with her. "They won't say a word. Not for the time being anyway. But I have some rules for you, break any and you're out: You're not to hurt anyone in this house, if you get caught or followed don't talk about or lead anyone to me or Brownlow and don't steal from this house. Deal?"


	3. Chapter 3

Sikes considered this for a moment and agreed. He wasn't particularly restricted by these rules and considering he had free and safe lodgings he, for the first time, felt grateful for something. After the servants had made up the green room they made some supper which Clara then invited them to eat with 'her and Bill'. There was a deadly silence apart from the occasional slurping of soup from Mr Sikes. Kate had never looked more terrified, partly from the presence of the murderer but partly because she had never been asked to dine with her mistress. "How is the soup, Mr Sikes?" Mrs Finch asked simply wanting to see if he was as sinister as she believed. He gave a grunt of approval and went back to his meal.

Kate and Mrs Finch took off the dishes and Clara announced she was rather tired and was going to retire for the night. "Where do I sleep," Sikes asked, sounding rather tired himself. Clara gestured for him to follow her upstairs. "You got another drink?" She tossed him a single malt whiskey from the cupboard, receiving a cheeky grin in return. When she escorted him to his room, Sikes was beguiled by the splendour of the place. The wardrobe and dressing table were a forest-like art nouveau; the bed was too, the duvet a deep emerald with leaves embroided around the edges. There was a strong scent of pine trees around him. "Thank you, Clara." He said roughly, smiling, and then he took a swig of his drink. She approached him slowly and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You going to be alright?" She asked him. In reply, he held her chin gently, leaning in while staring at her. His grubby face close to hers, clean and pale. She could smell the alcohol on his lips and she liked it. Their eyes were looking longingly at each other's. Clara broke away after realising their intimacy. "Goodnight, Bill." She left, closing the door quietly behind her and she leaned against the wall outside to catch her breath.

It was three thirty in the morning and Sikes' sleep was troubled. Lost in the sheets of his unusually comfortable bed he was drowning in sweat. Tossing and turning, they were back. The Nightmares. Awakened with a jump, he cried out. Having heard the distressed moans, Clara rushed in with a lamp, "Bill?" She called out.

"The eyes! They were back. Oh Lord, will they leave me in peace?" He was gasping for air still, when he finally came to his senses he found himself soaking wet. The horrors he had just faced and the embarrassment combined together had broken the murderer and reduced him to weeping. "Clara, please leave me now. I'm sorry for waking you." He smoothed back his greasy hair and smeared his tears around his face. She remained in the doorway. Sighing, she walked towards him and sat on the end of his bed, her light blue dressing gown covering her feet. Glancing at him briefly, he was they pity in her eyes. She proceeded to open a large box and pull out some men's clothes that belonged to Brownlow who had not visited for a few years. She laid them out on the bed and briefly embraced Sikes. She left him to change into the clean clothes and returned to collect his dirty ones a few minutes later. Clara left the lantern on the dressing table and left. "Night."

Appearing for breakfast in the morning, the murderer obviously hadn't had much more sleep the previous night. His eyes were red and sullen and his breathing was heavy. Mrs Finch offered him some bacon which he accepted gruffly. He daren't look at Clara after the events of the previous night. "Don't you look nice today?" The young maid commented on his borrowed clothes. She had apparently overcome her fear of the man. He shot her a deadly morning glance which showed her she should still be wary of him. "I should be off now." Clara sighed.

"Where are you going?" Sikes asked quickly, still not looking at her. She noticed this and seemed to hurry faster. "I go to drawing classes on Wednesdays and I'm late. Goodbye." With that she left Pentonville, leaving Sikes with the traumatised servants.


	4. Chapter 4

Having toured the house four times, not feeling drawn to sleeping despite how tired he was, Sikes decided the only thing he felt like doing was drinking every drink in the cupboard. So that's exactly what he did. He first collected as many of the bottles as he could carry, then organised them on the table according to their strength. Ten O'clock. Half a bottle of gin was gone. Eleven O'clock. All the gin was gone. Twelve O'clock. The servants came in to prepare luncheon but left quietly after seeing Sikes sat in the kitchen snoring, his face in a puddle. One O'clock. Having awoken from his snooze, he drank all the liquor. Two O'clock. He began to sing some little ditty and raising some unearthly sound with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The servants were peering in, debating whether or not it was safe to go in. Three O'clock. There was a knock at the door, seconds after Clara strolled in and hung up her coat. A loud smash came from the kitchen, she approached slowly. There was another sudden noise and she burst in. "Hello, Sweetheart." Sikes, completely wasted, was right in her face. He put his hands on her hips and grinned. "Bill, please-"

"Wot? Do I make you nervous?" He kissed her roughly before she broke away. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You may not look as pretty as Nance, but you're a better kisser, eh? No one's as pretty as Nance. Though it doesn't make up for living here, being trapped here with nothin' to do." Disgusted, and wondering whether she should hand him to the police, she slapped him. He yawned, and fell to the floor. She kicked him to find he was asleep. Clara saw the collection of bottles and the two smashed on the floor. She sat by the murderer, somehow still pitying him. The servants ambled in; they swept up the glass and put away the few remaining drinks. Clara stayed. She liked to watch him, she liked to watch people and study how they behave. She liked to wonder where their minds are. The clock was ticking loudly.

A few houses away, Mr Brownlow was playing the piano in the sitting room with Oliver and Mrs Bedwin. There was a rehearsed knock at the door and one of the maids walked in holding an envelope. "This is for you, sir." She said, somewhat bored. He finished playing the piece, and then thanked her while he took it. After opening and reading it, he paused in confusion then reread it numerous times. A frown formed upon his usually gentle face as he sighed. "Anything the matter, sir?" Mrs Bedwin asked as she had been rather enjoying the calming piano piece. Brownlow simply passed it to her, unsure himself what to make of it. She read it and also frowned. She turned it over to check if there was any more written on the other side. But there wasn't.

Dear Mr Brownlow,

I want to thank you once more for hiring myself and Kate to work for you at Clara's house however over the past couple of days I have been deeply concerned by some events that have been going on. I am unsure whether you will have heard but there has been talk of a criminal who goes by the name of William Sikes who recently murdered his girlfriend, Nancy. Yesterday when Clara arrived home, a man who fitted the description of said murderer accompanied her. Later she confirmed this is the man spoken of. She has instructed for us to take care of him despite some of his uncivilised behaviour such as making terrible noise and drinking the majority of drinks in the house. I'm also afraid Clara may have little more than pity for him.

I just thought you ought to know

Mrs Finch

"Is this the same Nancy that?" Mrs Bedwin asked. Brownlow nodded but shushed her, not sure whether they should speak with Oliver. "Nancy?" Oliver had heard her. The curious boy liked to hear of her and know that she was still remembered as he had been so very fond of her. Brownlow scratched his chin and decided he shouldn't keep anything from Oliver. "No, no more news of dear Nancy, Oliver. But I have news of Sikes. Tell me about him." The boy looked down not having happy memories to recall. "I didn't like him much sir, he took me away from you and tried to make me steal and he hurt Nancy. But Nancy liked him sir, she liked him very much. I think she would want him to be happy." Brownlow bit his tongue.


	5. Chapter 5

"Have you practised your reading much, Oliver?"

"Yes I have, sir. I do like to read." With that he handed the boy the letter over which he was somewhat puzzled. "Sir, who is Clara and Kate and Mrs Finch?"

"Clara is a young lady who like you, was rescued from the streets and brought to live here. But she moved somewhere else and I pay for her. Mrs Bedwin found her didn't you?" Mrs Bedwin smiled. "And Mrs Finch and Kate look after her."

"Yes." Oliver replied.

"So what do you think about the letter?" Brownlow was anxious to hear Oliver's opinion on the matter, after all, he knew Sikes better than anyone else in the house. "I don't know. I shouldn't like to see him again sir-"

"No, of course not dear boy."

"I think he should get the same as Fagin but I know that would've made Nancy upset even after what he did. And I think we owe it to Nancy to do what she would have wanted." They all tilted their heads in thought at Oliver's deep ideas.

Back in Clara's house, the servants had started to make dinner and were starting to become rather loud. Sikes, still lying on the floor, was beginning to wake up. Clara noticed this and left, not wanting to be around him conscious. She was understandingly embarrassed and offended by his actions, needing some time to recover she went to lie down upstairs. Drifting off to sleep she could just make out Mrs Finch leaving a tray of food on her desk. When she woke a little later it was getting dark. Her book gazed at her longingly; she picked it up and engrossed herself in it. Anything to avoid seeing him again she would do. But just as she wasn't hoping, there was a knock at the door. Without responding, the door opened. Sikes stood in the doorway rubbing his temple; he had a terrible headache from all the drink. "Hello." He muttered but there was no reply. "I said, hello." He was becoming impatient. The room remained silent. "Well I was going to actually apologise because Mrs Finch said I had upset you but if you don't want to talk to me then okay."

"I don't want to be near you right now." She muttered. Her eyes were beginning to water and for once she didn't stop them. He deserved to see what he had done, the pain he had and was continuing to cause. "Have I said something stupid? You see I don't remember..." He was going to make her talk. "Partly, also what you did."

"And wot did I do?" All he received was a look of disbelief at what he had done which was so outrageous. "I don't like to say." With that he was punched in the face by realisation. He groaned with fatigue and turned around. "Yes, that."

"I didn't mean to kiss-"

"I know. But when I see you now, I see you as an ungrateful drunkard."

"Ungrateful?"

"You said, 'Though it doesn't make up for living here, being trapped here with nothin' to do.'"

"Well I do feel trapped, but I'm not ungrateful."

"You realise you're allowed to come and go as you please?"

"Oh? Oh. Thanks. Listen to me, I'm sorry. There I said it, I'm sorry. Alright?"

"Alright." She followed him downstairs for dinner; such an eventful day had given her rather an appetite. She ate alone as everyone else had already eaten. Exhausted, she went to bed as soon as possible.

It was breakfast the next morning, Kate, unaware of Mrs Finch's letter, brought to the table, an envelope addressed to Clara. Recognising the handwriting, she tore it open.

Dear Clara,

I have been informed of your hospitality towards the criminal and murderer, Mr William Sikes. I have to tell you, I am in fact aware of the circumstances of his worst crime and was in fact involved in them. Mr Sikes believed Nancy had given valuable information of him to me however she did not and was merely helping to return a boy named Oliver, to my care. Having discussed the matter with Oliver we have decided not to hand in Mr Sikes for the assumption Nancy would not have wanted him in trouble and would be delighted if you and Mr Sikes would join us for dinner tonight.

I hope you're well and can make it

Mr Brownlow


	6. Chapter 6

"Did you tell him, Kate? There are only two people it could have been," Clara muttered.

"Wot did you say about me?" Sikes growled in the servant's face. Kate backed away in terror but obviously in confusion as well.

"No, it wasn't her. Kate always does wot she's told. But Mrs Finch likes to consult with higher authorities..." At this point Mrs Finch wandered back into the room without realizing what had happened. Clara quietly passed the letter to Sikes who replied saying he couldn't read. "Mrs Finch, Bill can't read, read it out loud for him please." Mrs Finch froze as she saw it. There was an element of expectancy to her reaction. By the second line he heard Sikes had had enough. Clara put her hand out to stop him leaving and gestured for Mrs Finch to continue. By the end of the letter, the murderer was in a rage; he kicked over his chair and pushed his plate onto the floor where it smashed.

_It_ was beginning to rain; the sky was dull and cloudy. Clara went upstairs in search of Sikes to find him in her room leaning against the window. "She was telling the truth; she said 'Then spare my life for the love of heaven as I have spared yours' there truly was no reason to- to kill her."

"Bill, there was no reason to without wot you just found out."

"I know." She could see his hands shaking unhealthily. He was about to rage but decided against it. "I'm going out." He stormed downstairs, grabbed his coat and set off into the rain. Clara followed downstairs and then watched him from the window. "Mrs Finch, please send word to Mr Brownlow that tomorrow would be more convenient for dinner."

"Right away, Miss."

After walking for ten minutes, Sikes was soaked to the skin. It was difficult to tell whether he was crying or if it was just the rain. His dark hair stuck to his face. He didn't know where he was going but he soon realised he was headed towards The Three Cripples. Knowing it was a bad idea, Sikes continued to one of the places he was most likely to be recognised. He liked bad ideas. As he entered the tavern, he covered his face with his hand, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He bought a drink from the bar and sat far away from what used to be his usual seat. He could no longer even try to justify what he did, he knew who to blame though: Fagin and Noah Claypole. Their lies and assumptions had cost him what he called his family. They knew what he'd do or at least Fagin did. The Jew would be swinging soon or perhaps he already had, but Claypole was still wandering the streets. Not for long. Not with what Sikes had planned for him. But answering his thoughts were the eyes, they no longer seemed threatening but pleading. They were a reminder of the consequences of killing. Though Noah Claypole meant nothing to him, Sikes didn't want to risk another pair of eyes following him, staring at him whenever he was alone. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quiet no one could hear. The eyes looked down and back at him before disappearing.

It was still raining; the streets of Pentonville were silent. Clara was becoming increasingly worried. It had been many hours since Sikes had left in what she would not call a calm state. Her supper was being prodded and poked at but she could not eat it as her mind was far away. Numerous possible disasters were filling her head, each one worse than the previous. Finally she pushed her plate away and stood up, Mrs Finch, who was about to offer her more wine, looked at her in confusion. "I'm going to look for him." Clara exclaimed.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Miss. It's getting dark and it's raining-"

"I know but I need to at least look." She left the kitchen. Her cloak was snatched from its hook and she ventured into the wet outdoors. The Three Cripples seemed to be her best idea to look; she had heard people mentioning him there. His house could also be somewhere to look but she wasn't sure where that was, she'd have to ask someone.


End file.
